


the night where i loved you

by maevestrom



Series: All That Is And Ever Was Universe [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Childhood Trauma, Drinking, Elevators, F/F, First Dance, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Sapphic af yo, Serious Injuries, Trauma, Wealth, gala - Freeform, other perspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-10-01 16:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20340586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maevestrom/pseuds/maevestrom
Summary: Companion Piece to All That Is And Ever WasOlivia dreams of a world where Maribelle loves her back the same way Olivia loves her. As the night progresses and gives way to something darker, Olivia dreams of a world where Maribelle feels free enough to love how she wants to at all.





	the night where i loved you

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [All That Is And Ever Was](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19195012) by [maevestrom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maevestrom/pseuds/maevestrom). 

> I literally busted this out in a dizzy crazy night. This was the most self-indulgent thing ever but hey i love the voice olivia has for it. and hopefully it stands on its own too you know?

I can see it in your eyes. It's what's always there, you know? 

The first thing I've ever felt from you, _ really _ felt from behind a defense of bitterness and exhaustion, is that sort of harried concern, like a mother hen trying to get all her chicks in a row. I know you've never been able to hide how much you dislike things- other presences, the elite, your father, my shyness- but what I've seen over time is what I first felt- you know, the care. You've always cared. That's why you kept assigning me habits to take up that weren't like me because you thought they'd make my weak spots stronger. But eventually I stopped being angry because life's a stage and your performance always ends with those caring eyes that just wanna make something right, that just can't make it on their own but refuse to be carried, and that's what I see tonight.

Your father is gone. I can feel the blood pumping through your veins again (you were so cold). I can't get out of my head how you told him to leave me alone when I could barely respond to him picking on me, just another elite who treats me like an idiot from Ferox, but that just makes me wish I was strong enough to tell him to leave me alone. Just leave me alone, and then I'd tell him to leave you alone too.

_ I hope she hasn't been saying anything negative about me. _

(Well she has. And I believe it. Fuck you.) 

I want to lean against you because I'm so tired that I want to disappear. And I know that you could lean against me for the same reason. And if I could I'd take you to the highest floor on the rooftop gardens and we could just sit and watch the sunset over this overpopulated small town. I used to think it was rustic when I moved here. I don't think I still do. 

And I'd tell you I love you. And you'd tell me you loved me too. You say it so much that I'm playing catchup but I think I'm making up for it because I'm saying it in a way that you're not. 

I think everything would be worth it if I could just lean against you. 

You apologize for him but I brush it off. I was kind of prepared. You told me that he would be a problem because you didn't tell him you would be here and he’s… well, you told me. So I get it. I hate it, but I can do it for you. I _ can _ do it for you. I’m still a little high off the fact that you asked me out. Well, kind of. You asked me to the fundraiser Lissa invited us both to. But you made sure I went with you. Not romantically… but also _ not _not. I hope.

We meet up with our friends. Forrest is indefinable. As a person, he is kind, arrogant, and loves like a mama bird preparing to kick the chicks she's feeding out of the nest. I feel like all of the parts of him conflict with each other and it just confuses me. I think some people mean that with how gender-nonconforming he dresses. Better than me. All that wealth, I guess. I think you like him more than you do me, but I also thought you were gay until yesterday, and I kind of hope you still are, cause I'm over him taking attention off of me. 

I mean I really do love him. But you're the first person I've seen hold their own against him.

Lissa stands next to him. I've never seen her cry before. Sometimes I'll see her after she cries and she brushes it off. But she's crying because of the speech she gave between her brother and the other politicians. I really want to hug her. Tell her she's amazing. She's amazing. I love her, not like I do you. Not like you loved her. But I love her. 

There's a banquet hall across from us. Lissa does the thing where she pretends she wasn't crying and I don't like how she lies for our sake, but I hate it when you do that for me. Like you smile at me as we walk across, generously donating your hand to me and walking with confidence like you're not looking at every corner for different cameras to glare on you, catch you, catch you being so authentic that it terrifies them and turns me on. 

When we eat, we talk with others as best as we can. Forrest is so easy to talk to. We've been friends for years. I think I was in love with him once. I'm not anymore. I love him like Lissa loves you, with that little bit of distance between our fingers when we touch. Like you're trying to love Lissa. Like you wish you loved people when the way you love is so beautiful. 

I promise.

Forrest talks about the fashion he does. I'm wearing his dress. It's beautiful, but I'm not sure I'm beautiful in it. You said I looked amazing, but amazing isn’t beautiful. It’s one of the words that kind of gets me going but are just too _you _to feel like more than coincidences. Like _darling. _Or _exquisite. _Or _dearest. _Except then. You had a look in your eye I don't think you meant to. I love it. The raw parts of you sneak out, but maybe that's my imagination. Maybe I'm projecting onto you.

But I'm still pretty sure you have it in you to push me against the wall and do the things you think you shouldn't.

Lissa runs off as though she's on cue. Poor Forrest. He tried to make Lissa his date here and, well, you know... they'll be good friends, probably. 

We talk some more, and you let the mask slip. I gasp a little every time you talk about _ scandalous _ things. How you tease Forrest. How you thank his aunt for performing a service to all the sapphics in the world while reveling in his shock. How you tease yourself in that voice so dignified and practiced but you don't think is good enough, rehearsed enough, good enough as it is. It's beautiful. You're beautiful. Goddamnit, Mari, you're beautiful, you friggin' idiot. 

I'm about to say something and then the music switches to a different song. Recording, cause the band went away. I know this song. No, you don't _ get _ it, I used to dance to this song. Not only that, I just saw it in a video where someone came out. This song is gay history as of last week. 

Ahem.

_ Dance with me. _

You turn it down. Probably because my legs have been snapped into bits in a car accident as of, what, a year ago, I don't count and I don't wanna. Probably cause I'm losing touch with my dance crew, including the ones I thought wouldn't forget about me. Probably because yesterday I tried and immediately fell on my ass and had a panic attack. Dancing is something you have to associate with patheticness, pity, failure, you nestling me into a bus seat while everyone watches us and it hurts, I know it has to hurt you because you're still looking for eyes watching you as you sit next to me to keep me from falling. 

And then I promise I won't fall if you hold me. How do I know that? I don't. I'm desperate. I just want you (to fucking dance with me). 

And that's all it takes. 

That was easy. 

I lead you through it. I'm excited, even though/because you don't know a thing and keep professing it. You're so tender. Are you worried I'll fall apart on you again?

Have a little faith in me, Mari. This is what I can do. 

And we dance. We dance, and your hold changes. It has to. I defy gravity and dance on two numb limbs without falling. I'm held up by the power of love (and gay rights [and likely denying all pain]). You go from protective to amazed to... liking this. Openly liking this. Even though I'm spinning. Even though I let you go for milliseconds. Even though I nearly fall at the end and you have to catch me, watch me as I'm breathless, helpless, waiting for you to cradle me and lead me to a seat, _ don't _, I feel like I'm falling in love with my fucking babysitter when you're younger than me\- 

You kiss me. 

It's soft, it's distant, and it lasts for a long time even though it’s one kiss and I am too stunned to return it because _excuse me! What made you think you could do that to me? My blatant lust_? You kiss me like the lights are heavy on you but you can't let them stop you. You're fearless. Not fearless. I know you're scared of the million eyes on your heart. You're courageous, and that's even better. 

I beg for my cane. Lissa gives it to me and cackles. Wait, she's back? Oh my God, she set this up, didn't she? That's what I get for telling her that I loved you like that. She's probably thinking that it was about time. She probably got that damn song. Why did I think it was a coincidence? 

I sit down and look at the sky. I don't see anyone's eyes. And you look like you don't see any either. It's like you broke out of your chains for a moment. 

_ She was wonderful _.

I used to be that way. That's why I took up dancing. That's why I take so many risks. That's why everyone thinks I'm the easy bi girl from the nation over. Cause I had questions, I wanted answers, and getting answers was the only thing I was brave enough to do. 

You were so _ brave _, Mari. 

I have to hobble to the restroom and the high fades as I remember that I'm still broken, that Forrest still has to hold my arm, that you still wait to catch me, and meanwhile Lissa won't stop teasing me like she's blind and doesn't see the fragile shell I have to work with. That I'm just Olivia, and all that's changed is that I'm worse.

I walk into a stall. I told everyone I was cooling down but I'm really just hiding. I'm hiding and trying not to cry and well I'm crying that was a nice attempt. I'm trying not to cry all over my phone as I text Forrest. All sorts of what-am-I-thinkings and yeah-but-what-ifs and so-what-if-she-kissed-mes and stop-that-forrest-why-would-shes? And I'm blubbering the entire time and I hear you shouting and want to run and check on you because I forgot to ask for Forrest to unzip this and I'm not actually _peeing_ but I'm gonna hobble slowly and you'll see that I was crying and think you did something wrong, like you always do, when you're so right for me and I'm just a wrong person and please stop me from thinking Mari please please _ please _.

I feel a vibration. It's Forrest.

_ Olivia. Have faith in her affections. _

Of _ course, _ it's Forrest. 

If he insists. Not like I have faith in me, though. 

When I leave the bathroom you're not there. I ask Forrest if I scared you off and he looks at me with disappointment. _ Well, sorry Forrest, but I need to know! Just bear with me! _ He apologizes. He's too used to me. No, you haven't been scared off, and I sigh in relief and text you.

A lot.

You're gone for ten minutes before you respond to me asking if you're okay. Because I've always been worried about you. I've always been wanting to make sure you're okay because I know you're not. I can't carry you to the bus stop and point out every newspaper stand and drinking fountain that makes me forget to panic, but I still want to take care of you.

You make it back to me and hug me. You're crying too. You think it's gone, but it's not. And even if you hid it, I'd treat you like you were anyways. 

Lissa can tell we need a drink. She's not even legal enough for the hotel bar but yadda yadda rich people can do whatever and I can kinda get why you're such a socialist sometimes. They both leave because they just don't get it. I love them both but holy God what the hell is it like in the mind of a neurotypical where happy endings can just happen while you go outside behind a bomb shelter and wait for your subjects to light it up?

You order a Long Island Iced Tea, the stiffest drink they have, and I try not to freak out. Why do you need to get wrecked so badly? You don't even drink two mimosas when we brunch. I follow your lead and order a bourbon shot. Weird how I'm not the hardest drinker between us.

I'm not prepared when I speak and ask why they left. Probably because they expect us to hook up. And then you say that you've found me attractive for some time. 

Um. Excuse me. _ What the fuck? _

You say it like it's just a fact. Like it shouldn't surprise me. Honey, if I look surprised, you don't know the thirty-ninth of it. I love you more than anything. I just can't... all of that... I thought it was because you loved me too, not because you thought your friend was hot. Which she's _ not _, by the way. This all just confuses me. I didn't know you could treat someone like a porcelain doll because you thought they were hot.

And then we talk a little more. And I see it. I see it after you learn that Long Island Iced Tea isn't actually just Iced Tea. I learn it after you hear me confess the things about myself I feel like everyone sees in me, like that's all they see of me, and dig your nails into the glass like you're so used to being assumed so deep down that you don't even know you are. I learn it after I look you in the eyes and ask you if everything you did- the dance, the kiss, talking back to your father, the way you look at me- has a reason, and you sigh like any answer you give will be too drunk and vulnerable and real and that's okay, it's okay to snap, because I'm a strong enough woman to handle it. I just never act like it around you because I feel safe being weak around you. And you think showing affection is making sure I'm never weak.

I see your eyes. They're looking at the corners again. You tell me like a lonely drunk trying to hold it together that your father has to be watching you. He has to. You can't be _ you _. I tell you that this isn't his hotel cause that's all I can think of, and I'm right but I'm wrong. 

_ I'm _ always _ in his fucking den _.

Your words cry without tears and scratch the back of your throat in defiance. You've slammed your drink down, look into my mystified eyes, and beg me to never let you order it again. And I won't. Because I see your hurt. I see you in his den, a little girl watching him in fear, knowing that your secret will break the illusion of love he has for you. Then I see him in his den after you break it. He doesn't yell. You've never described him as a yeller. But you've hinted that he hurt you. That the son he thought he had was never trained to be his daughter. That he forsook you as little more than a gofer and law clerk. I hated him just for that. But that's not all he did to you. The idea of him paralyzes you. Everything you've done for me tonight has been calculated rebellion. But you've been _ you _ more than you've ever allowed yourself to be. I've never loved you more than I have tonight. And I've never hated him more either. 

I wanna rebel against him by letting you love as much as you want. It might be a little. I hope it's a lot. But I want to help you be free. I want you to fly out of his reach. 

And so I pull on an old idea from my early college days. It's faulty and I'll get in trouble but we're hurting for options. 

I take you on an elevator, shielding you from the cameras. You're smaller than me, so it's easy. We go up a bit and then I hit stop. Right now we could do anything. There’s no working souind on this unless you blow it up and even them it’s just a little poof. I mean, I've used these for makeout sessions in between college classes when I first transferred a few years ago. Part of that answering questions thingamabob. Cause I couldn’t at home so I tried here and well I couldn’t really still but fuck that. That's not why I brought you here- well, on paper, but we could... (Hahaha, just kidding- unless?) 

I tell you that you can say anything. No one will see you. He won't see you. I know you're scared to say something, even if the drink is willing to drag your pleas from you like an exorcist calling for your demons. And I don't know what you want to say. Surprise me. 

You do.

First off, you stumble upon your words. You rarely do that unless you're nervous. You ask me if it's okay to love with your whole heart. Until you're so dizzy that you love how intoxicating it is. Until it makes you choke on flowers that take root from your heart. And you don't say it like that but I just wanna tell you how beautiful it is. 

Lissa takes over your words. It hurts you. You wanted to love her that way when she hasn't been that way. You think that's your problem and not her chosen solution but it's okay. You might have to work really hard to find someone who wants that kind of love but you can. 

But you find me.

_ It's you _.

I pause in shock and point at myself. I might faint but I don't wanna expose you so I stay strong. But... am I dreaming?

_ I love you. _

Nope, I'm not dreaming. You said it just like how I said it to you. Why am I so surprised? You've always loved me, even though it never felt right. You loved me like I deserved it, but I thought it was to keep me from spiraling into the traffic of my own thoughts. But it's because… I'm me… even though I'm _ me, _ I'm _ me. _

I'm going to die. I'm going to explode here and now.

I tell you that I do too. Well, no, I scream _ you too?! _ And we both laugh about how easy it would have been if we hadn't overcomplicated it, but messy is just how we do things. We've been through too much. We've been too much bad in the eyes of others to believe we're good in the right eye. 

_ We're hopeless, aren't we? _

We stop talking and you cackle like... well, how do I say... I mean... like a man? I'm sorry! It's really cute though. I love when you let loose. I love how you tease me with no regard. I love how when you ask me if you can love me and I repeat _ of course, Mari, _ you beam with a sneaky smile that says _ just you wait. _ I love how when I kiss you you make out with me and I think my bourbon and your iced tea combine into some spiritual concoction as we get a little gropey and you lean into it and fuck, _ fuck _, I love you so much Mari, and oh shit the elevator's back on, and it's time for us to pretend we never had an illicit lesbian affair in these four moving walls. 

You’re bad at pretending.

But I could have guessed that.

We hit floor nine and watch the sunset. It's not as nice as seeing it from some rooftop garden, but we still lean against each other. 

I treasure it. I hold it close to my heart. Cause I know it's over. For now, I repeat, but I'm not sure.

We take a different elevator down and reach the main floor. I steel myself as we meet Forrest in the spontaneous-second-base shape we're in. He's quick to tease me. You're quick to tease me. I protest but I can't lie and say it's not fun.

I just know it's gonna end soon. 

When Lissa runs in, I can see in her eyes that it's over. She still tries to cushion it but you still get mad and Forrest grows concern. I stand in the center of the room, hands on my cane, terrified but not moving. 

It's okay, everyone. 

It's okay, Mari.

Let me be brave for you, okay? 

You walk to me for a moment. We kiss. It's softer than our kiss after the dance but it makes me stronger. Not too strong. I still feel like a branch in a hurricane, but at least I'm a branch with a lot of leaves. Not just one alone. Even as you leave my side and recruit into the line of sentinels, it kind of makes this all real. It was an accident. You love me. And we’re gonna be together after this. 

After _ this. _

We get too many people for this. I want to scream and run when I see security pile in as I look for their guns. I want to scream when I see Lissa's brother and a few other rich white people looking at the young black troublemaking girl. I want to scream as the hotel manager tests me, tries to crack me. I want to scream when I see your father staring at you and talking about how horrible I am for you. Well, I kind of want to spit on him and beat him with my cane but whatever. 

Oh, please, let this be over, I want to scream and run.

But then I hear you counting each tile behind me, memorizing the shapes, like you and I did when I had my panic attack. And I remember that I'm doing this for you. 

Forrest does it for me. 

He tells the group that he was the other one in the elevator. He knows that, even being who he is, others will listen to a rich white kid more than you or I. And to his credit Lissa's brother wanted to end it the entire time so I think he'd take the first out that would make others drop it as long as he got to end it and go to bed. 

And he almost does. 

Then your father happens. 

I don't think he ever speaks like this. He doesn't yell, but he attacks you. Calls you by your old name from before we met. Maybe he's just drunk, I think, then I look at the fear in your eyes that you mask with outrage that I had no idea. He was always like this. If this is his den, he's yelling at you and humiliating you. Like he doesn't care that the pieces of you he tries to tear away are beautiful despite him. That you have given me all the love that he denied you.

_ Don’t call her Dennis! _I scream at him. I hate him. I want to hurt him. I want to hurt him so badly. How dare he do that to you! He doesn't deserve to be your father! He doesn't know what you've done to me.

_ Does he think he's just going to walk away from this with no consequence? _ You shout at no one and everyone. _ And are you honestly going to let him?! _

And all I hear between it all is _ help me _. I've never seen you so vulnerable in my life. I'm scared that you'll break, but I shouldn't be. I'm just surprised that you haven't. You deserve to. 

Just not where there are eyes to judge you. 

Lissa's brother steps in. He tells me and Forrest that we have to go- though he's quick to threaten anyone who messes with us on the way out in a way that can't be brought up as a threat in court. But first, your father is sent out. He's nasty. He's manipulative. He's mean. But Lissa's brother is meaner, and your father leaves for the last time. Even if he threatens to reprimand you for all the bad things that you've done tonight like _ loving me like I love you despite it all, _we both know we never will, and why is that so scary? 

When he leaves, we should be able to breathe again but it's not going to be that easy.

You say that you're leaving with me. Forrest and Lissa follow. We barely make it outside before we start crying. We cry because that's what he really is. You cry because now I've seen it. I cry because that's all you've known.

Trauma is... intense. Trauma has so many ways to manifest. Sometimes it's so deeply embedded within us that we think it's just… us. Sometimes it's in the form of flashbacks and nightmares. Sometimes it's in the things we avoid so we aren't hurt like we are now. Sometimes it's in the form of panic attacks that we can only stave off in the loving arms of another as they point us to safety in the form of newspaper stands and drinking fountains. 

And I'll be damned if that's your takeaway. That you suffered. It should be that you were rewarded. That you were loved.

I should say something more meaningful. Something like _ you can hold onto me if you're shaky, and if I fall, you can catch me. Maybe we both fall. But maybe we both stand. Maybe we stood together out of love. _But I don't. I'm too tired. I'm too weak, and I'm trying to be okay with how much I can take. I'm not, but I'm trying. 

I just say _ I love you, Mari. And I want you to remember that about tonight, okay? _ I say that with stutters and tears and an undercurrent of pleading. And you lean against my chest and cry, but you seem to believe it. 

Okay. That's good, at least.

The valet is getting Forrest's car. I think he's got an old beater van, which wouldn't be my first choice, especially if he's rich, but he does things his way and we love him. Lissa tries to smile next to him but admits that she didn't think through how bad this would get. She so rarely admits that she doesn't know. But when she does, we love her more. You lean against my chest and cry your last tears, slowly returning to vigilance. You can't help it. I love you anyway.

And maybe if I get inside the car and pass out against the window, counting raindrops on the window until I fall asleep, leaving you alone for a moment to return to my best self...

Maybe I can trust that you'll still love me too. 


End file.
